I Loved Her First
by Ryoko Metallium
Summary: REWRITTEN - A love-sick shopkeeper laments of his affection for the hero Sparrow in his journal


Title: I Loved Her First

Author: Ryoko Metallium

**Author Notes: This is something I came up with a few nights while I was playing Fable 2. I couldn't help but notice there was one particular character I kept running into that would always ask me to marry him, and I would never give him an answer. Yes I know. I'm a heartless bitch. I don't know if anyone has noticed him, but it got me thinking on writing a really short story surrounding his goal to make Sparrow his wife. I wasn't aiming to make this man an obsessive stalker, just awkwardly love-sick. Please excuse me for any errors I may have overlooked. I literally wrote this in one sitting since I don't have a computer anymore and have to bum off others in my household. I was sort of rushed for time when I started writing. **

**I'm sorry for not giving any new updates on my other stories. Having to borrow computer time has really slowed down production to an almost screeching halt. In the meantime I've had to resort back to ye old pen and paper. I'll squeeze whatever updates I can. **

**I hope I wrote so that it's relatable to anyone who played the game.**

**Enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: Fable 2 is the property of Lionhead and Microsoft Game Studios. I do not own any of these characters except my own. I'm only borrowing them; I promise I'll give them back.**

* * *

**Yeah I tell you something**

**I think you'll understand**

**When I say that something**

**I wanna hold your hand**

"**I Want to Hold Your Hand" – The Beatles**

Dear Journal,

I saw her again today.

She arrived in Bowerstone Market just as the shops were opening up for business and I was heading out to my humble pie stand when I caught a glimpse of her just as she was walking into the inn. I thought I felt my heart stop beating the moment my eyes swept over her graceful movements. She looked just as beautiful as ever; black hair like woven ebony silk that shone in the dawn's glow, eyes like diamonds and a smile that reminded me of heaven's angels. Like an idiot, I found myself staring at her from a distance in the middle of the town square while everyone walked around me, muttering and wondering if I had gone mad. I might as well have. I was suddenly awe struck by her that all rhyme and reason had left me. She waved hello to everyone who greeted her, her dog prancing along side happily and ever loyally. She smiled to the blacksmith, the jeweler, the town crier and all the children but not to me. I kept myself hidden behind one of the clock tower's pillar like the coward that I am, gazing at her magnificence while the opportunity to speak to her once again slipped away.

Oh Sparrow…her name has become notorious to all of Albion over the last few years. She had become a living legend through the numerous deeds sung by the bards, and had successfully won over the hearts of the harshest critics. Yet even before all the fame and glory, the proclaimed hero of the people had long won my heart. Those drunks at the tavern called me a lovesick fool to carry a torch for likes of her.

'What do you hope will come from this boy-o? That you'll woe her with one of your pies and just sweep her off her feet?'

Granted I wasn't that idiotic. I'm not exactly…robust or as dashing or heroic. I have knobby-knees, I have faint at the sight of blood and I have an unexplainable fear of cats. Hell, face it! I'm as dull as day old bread and pathetic excuse of a man.

But I can't help the way I feel!

Whenever I see her walk into town, whether it's to repair her equipment or to look in on the local shops or just to take on a part time job, I can't help but feel insanely happy just knowing that she is nearby. Today after she arrived back into to town, I found it difficult to keep my mind on my work. I was distracted. It was just my luck that she got herself a side job at the blacksmith, so close to my stand where I had the perfect view to watch her throughout the day. Try I might I couldn't stop thinking about her, couldn't stop myself from watching her as she worked. After awhile I felt rather badly, like I was spying on her like some kind of drooling pervert.

When the work day ended, she retired to the inn for a pint and some stories. I would've gone to the inn as well just as I have always done, but after staring at her all day, I found myself in need to clear my head. Sort out my feelings and whatnot. This isn't the first time that this has happened. My love for her has always led me to distraction, but today was different. Perhaps the reason being it was that when I saw that morning, I noticed a fair amount of new scars marring her body. I saw angry bruises and wounds wrapped tightly in bandages. Sadly this wasn't something that I haven't seen before.

I remember the first time she came by my shop. I remember it so clearly…

I was putting out some freshly baked blueberry pies when some of the town children came crashing into me and my entire tray went soaring into the air. The sight of my hard work splattering all over the pavement sent me into a fury, cursing and cussing at the snot-nosed rascals. That's when I saw her. I turned to sweep up whatever was left of the pies when I stopped to see this woman with a sword on her back and pistol on her hip gathering up the crumples. Her dog was helping as well…and by help I mean he was lapping up the remains.

At first I thought she was some beggar helping herself to the leftovers. I was ready to scream at her to get lost…but then I saw her smile. That smile…There was something about that smile that made me pause and completely forget myself entirely. Even after the street was clean again and she offered to help me make more pies, I couldn't stop staring at her. I must have seemed like a mad man because the next thing I remember is her patting me on the back and telling me to have a nice day before leaving gawking in the town square.

That was my first encounter with Sparrow. Since that day, I have been smitten with the woman but too shy to even tell her my name.

It can be maddening sometimes. Sparrow is an adventurer. It is a life that is both fascinating and perilous that only the strong willed could survive. I am just a simple pie man. I know absolutely nothing of what lies beyond the gates of Bowerstone. I've never even been to Oakfield or the Temple of Light. The more I think about, the more I curse myself for my short comings. I must be honest; I am as weak as they come. I cannot hold a sword or aim a crossbow. But it never fails. Everything Sparrow returns and I see her marked with a new scar, the terror I feel is so strong that I fear I might break. The desire to protect her along with crushing guilt makes me angry at my weakness.

Damn it but I love Sparrow! I love her more than any more could ever love a woman! The love I have for her burns within my chest and radiates through my heart so powerfully hot that it hurts. And even though I'm not sure if she feels the same way about me, or even if she knows that I am alive, it doesn't change the fact that I want to be with her. I have often daydreamed about what it will be like if I ever warmed up the courage to ask for her hand in marriage. I've wondered what she would say. Would she think of me as some blabbering madman or…perhaps not? I've dreamed of children, of building a home with her to raise a family…far away from all the bandit killings and bounty hunting. I know that it sounds like a fool's dream, but I have always wanted to start a family with a woman whom I knew that I would always find happiness in.

But as I said before, I am no one special. What can I offer that would impress her let alone express exactly what I feel? She is a hero to the all Albion, perfection personified in every way….and all I do is sell pies that make people fat. Would she have me even though I am no adventurer? And as I sit here, scribbling down my thoughts in a journal trying my damnedest to get her out of my mind, I'm starting to think that I'm doomed to pine away my yearnings for the woman I care about. Will I ever tell her how I feel? Or am I doomed to never know her, or she know who I am? The longer I wait, the more time I lose. If I wait too long, there may come a time when I wake up and find that she's never coming back to Bowerstone.

Such a notion feels me a fear I never want to know...

**Oh Please, say to me**

**You'll let me be your man**

**And please, say to me**

**You'll let me hold your hand**

**Now let me hold your hand**

**I want to hold your hand**


End file.
